10 Reasons Why Carlton Lassiter Knows
by invisalite
Summary: Carlton Lassiter isn't new to love. He IS new to loving Shawn Spencer. Sequel to 10 Reasons Why Shawn Spencer Knows. Established Shassie, slash. Don't like, don't read. Rated T just in case. Don't own anything but the original storyline.
1. Reason 1

**A/N: Whoo... it's been a while. Sorry to take so long with this you guys! One shot ideas tend to come fast to me, but surprisingly it was hard to work out all 10 Reasons for our favorite Head Detective. Oh well. Hope you all enjoy it! In celebration of last day of finals. R&R as per always. **

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. 'Cept the storyline.  
**

**

* * *

1). He's gotten past the point of it being his "accident."**

Lassiter and Shawn have been going out for the period of two months now.

The fake psychic fully acknowledges the situation as being a relationship.

The head detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department doesn't see it as such. Every time, if someone asks about him and Shawn, he simply remarks, "It was an accident."

But today is different.

Shawn skips into the precinct, bringing the sunshine with him into the dreary building.

"Morning, Jules! Mornin' Lassiekins!" he chirps, grinning. Juliet returns his smile and waves before returning her focus to the mound of paperwork on her desk.

"Morning, Spencer," his boyfriend answers, not looking up from the files in his workspace.

"Hard case?" Shawn asks, taking a seat on the arm of Lassiter's chair.

"Mhmm. We might just have to call you in on it."

Nobody in the bull pen gives the two any notice, aside from a couple of rookies who have just recently joined the department. After a minute of bickering, one of the rookies, a young brunette, walks over.

She blushes furiously as the two stop their quiet talking.

"Hi, I'm Helen—I just started here a couple of days ago," Helen stammers.

She bites her lip nervously before going on.

"My colleague and I have been wondering… whether you two are going out or not. We don't want to get any misconceptions, you know?"

Shawn smiles winningly and is about to answer, but Lassiter beats him to the punch.

"Yeah, we're going out. We're in the second month of our relationship."

The fake psychic is caught a little off-guard, flushes a light pink, and turns to face his boyfriend. Helen smiles and walks back to her partner.

"What did you say?"

The head detective looks up into flustered green eyes.

"I said, Shawn, that we're two months into our relationship."

"Aw, Lassie, I love you too!" the fake psychic drawls, leaning over to hug the older man.

Lassiter blinks a bit in confusion as he accepts the hug. He opens his mouth to ask what triggered the public display, but runs over the last couple seconds in his mind.

_We're two months into our _relationship.

Oh.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he resumes his work, his boyfriend incessantly chattering in the background.

But both of them are thinking the same thing.

_It's not a mistake anymore._


	2. Reason 2

**A/N: The title of this chapter may not make sense at the moment, but when I update with the next chapter, it will. No beta, so any errors are my own. Please point things out if you find them, and put them in reviews! It helps a lot. Review after reading! **

**

* * *

2). Some of his things end up at Shawn's apartment…**

Lassiter tears through his house once more.

"Where'd I put that damn shirt?!" he cries in exasperation.

Shawn looks on from the couch, bemused.

"Which shirt are ya lookin' for, Lassie?" the fake psychic asks nonchalantly, tapping the brown leather.

"The light blue one!"

"The one that matches your eyes?" the younger man replies quietly.

The head detective stops his rushing to look at his boyfriend.

"You think it matches my eyes?" he murmurs, smiling slightly.

The brown-haired man nods slowly, and goes back to tapping out a rhythm on the couch arm. Lassiter decides to find another shirt to wear and returns shortly, plopping down on the other side of the couch.

_The loveseat. Perfect._

Shawn gasps a little as arms reach out and draw him towards the older man.

"I couldn't find the shirt I was looking for, so you're gonna have to deal with this one."

The fake psychic turns around to look at his boyfriend's shirt, unsurprised to see a slightly darker shade of blue.

"Do you wanna know where the other shirt is?"

Lassiter's eyes widen as he looks down into the younger man's face.

"You've seen it recently?"

His boyfriend taps his temples and sighs a bit. It's hard to have to explain things now Lassiter knows he's not psychic.

"Eidetic memory, remember? Anyway, you left it in my apartment. You said it was for next time."

The head detective blushes a little bit, but leans down to kiss Shawn to hide his embarrassment.


	3. Reason 3

**A/N: For all you grammar Nazis about to slam me for my title, please go back to chapter 2 and examine the title there. Then, tie the two titles together. Creative, eh? Yeah, yeah? xD ANYWAY. Read away, and _please_ review! I've lost my reviewers from 10 Reasons Shawn Knows! IT MAKES ME DEPRESSED AND SAD AND I HAVE LESS MOTIVATION. No, for serious. SERIOUSLY, GUYS. Maybe I should link... I think I shall. I digress. Read on, and please review even if it is just a comment. Thanks so much!  
**

**

* * *

3). …While Shawn's things end up at his house.**

Lassiter comes out of his bedroom gingerly holding a pair of pineapple print boxers in two fingers. Shawn, sitting on the couch, starts laughing.

"When did I get these?" the head detective asks in a serious manner. "I don't bother getting printed boxers."

"Oh, Lassie. You know how much I love your solid colored boxers," the fake psychic guffaws.

The older man continues to hold the underwear in the air while watching his boyfriend giggle hysterically. Eventually, though, Shawn's laughter dies away.

"You honestly don't remember how those got there?" he asks, incredulous.

Lassiter shakes his head.

"If you got these for me as some sort of sick birthday present…"

The younger man gives his boyfriend a dark glare for a second, but then lightens his gaze.

"You dare doubt my memory?" he still manages to growl, the natural response to Henry-like behavior.

The head detective throws his hands up in resignation, boxers included.

"No, of course not, Shawn. I just honestly don't remember how I got these things."

He plops down on the couch next to the fake psychic, leaning his head on the brown-haired man's shoulder.

"My memory's not as good as yours, you know."

"Yeah."

The two sit in silence on the brown leather couch for awhile. Eventually, Shawn breaks the silence.

"Those are my boxers, if you really must know. You still don't have a drawer for me, so I just stuck them in your underwear drawer."

"Oh."

Lassiter sits musing for a second before he finally musters the courage to ask his question.

"Do I have a drawer at your apartment?"


	4. Reason 4

**A/N: This has been beta'ed by my friend IRL, so it _should_ be devoid of petty mistakes. Review as per always, please! :) Reviews make the world go 'round and give me more motivation too. Even if it's a comment, I really appreciate it. Hope you guys enjoy, and we're almost to the halfway!**

**

* * *

4). The entire department knows now.**

It was because the two happened to walk into the precinct, hand in hand. At first, it shocked everyone. But after the second week of the hand-holding, the whole precinct just let it go.

Now, the head detective and the fake psychic can walk into the building, hand in hand. It's not like anyone really cares anymore.

Karen knows because Lassiter's paperwork output has gone down. She lets it slide because Lassiter seems so much more relaxed now, and is more willing to ask for help. His success rate has skyrocketed. Shawn has become less of a pain in the ass, and his craziness has decreased slightly. _Ever_ so slightly. Plus, _his_ success rate remains at a constant 100%.

Juliet knows because she's been expecting it to happen for a while. So, when she sees them, even though she's extremely jealous of Lassiter, she greets them politely. The head detective smiles more, and the junior detective thinks her work is better for it. Her thinking is that even though she's lost her chances with Shawn, it's less stressful to work with a happy Lassiter. Because happy Lassiters make happy campers. Juliet lets it slide because she's happy for Shawn, happy for Lassiter, hell, even happy for herself. As long as she can stay friends with the two, she's fine. Also, because if she did get Shawn, Gus would resort to flirting with some other chick. Which is just _so wrong._

Buzz knows because he's caught Shawn and Lassiter, on multiple occasions, making out in the interrogation rooms (where else can you enjoy lunch by yourself with a somewhat shielded view?). Of course, Buzz has seen this coming from just about day one, and has compounded evidence for his conclusion over the years that the two have known each other. From the annoying nicknames to the harassment, he's been able to see through the fake psychic and the head detective and realize that the two have just been _too damn scared_ to admit that they were in love after so much hurt and heartbreak. So, it's obvious that he lets it slide when he recognizes (after the third time) that this is not an accident, but something real. He doesn't let them know, either, that he's caught them. Because secretly, he's taping them.

Gus knows not only because he's Shawn's best friend, but because Shawn's his best friend. He was the one who got the late night phone calls about how Lassie did this, Lassie did that, oh do you think I might be overanalyzing this, what's wrong with me, why do I like him, yadda yadda yadda. The pharmaceutical salesman just rolls his eyes every time the two walk in together and just goes back to flirting with Juliet but not really flirting with Juliet. Secretly though, Gus takes it hard. Now that Shawn and Lassiter are dating, there's less Shawn and Gus time. But he sucks it up and shows that he's able to take one for the team. Because after all, he _is _Shawn's best friend.

More importantly, the rookies don't even bother asking now. They assume it's just part of the culture of the precinct. And… it adds for more drama in the workplace. And although they've all had their share of high school and college drama, it adds flavor and spice. Who doesn't like that?


	5. Reason 5

**A/N: For all those who have reviewed, thank you so much! It makes it very worthwhile to keep writing these. We're halfway there! WARNING: THIS IS A REFLECTIVE CHAPTER AGAIN. Reviews make the world go 'round. :) So, review away. **

**EDIT: So a reviewer pointed out a _slightly_ sketchy line. Thank you so much, it is now off of there. :) **

**

* * *

5). Even Henry knows. **

Henry has been suspecting his son for a while now.

His random visits concerning relationships to his now-exceptional smile set the older Spencer off on his son.

The Shawn that he's known has always been looking for someone, but has been too scared to admit when he likes someone and always runs away. It just scares the retired officer a little bit that his son hasn't run away yet. Because unless this is just a whole string of one night stands gone crazy…

But Henry knows that somehow, Lassiter won't let him leave.

Henry knows that Shawn is fully aware of his Lassie's paranoia.

Henry knows that Shawn could have (and would have) left about ten times in the course of their first two months together, to figure out not only himself, but his relationship.

Henry knows that Shawn hasn't left because his son holds Lassiter's heart in his hands. (_That damn, manipulative bastard. Son, I mean SON.)_

Henry knows that somehow, Lassiter makes his son happy and complete.

Henry knows that Lassiter will try to never ever let anything bad happen to Shawn. Because if he did, the head detective would find himself in the hospital. Very, _very_ quickly.

Henry knows that Shawn is head over heels in love with Lassiter, and vice versa.

And…

Strangely, he's alright with it.

But at this point, he's more worried about Lassiter than Shawn. Which is, in a word, concerning.


	6. Reason 6

**A/N: So today's my birthday! And nothing showed up as being updated on my watched list, so it'd really make my day if you guys REVIEWED THIS STORY or my other ones! Please leave a review even if it is just a comment. Criticism is always welcome as long as you have a way to improve the story. Thanks so much for reading!**

**

* * *

6). The headaches? They don't come around as often.**

It's been a bad day for Carlton Lassiter.

The murder case he's been investigating has run up against a dead end, and he feels that nothing he can do will help find any clues to convict anyone. Thankfully, the clock has just struck five, meaning that the weary head detective is now off work. Meaning, off to the bar.

He strolls to his car and jumps when he sees someone sitting in the passenger seat. Said mysterious figure leans his head out of the car and Carlton breathes a sigh of relief, spotting the mess of brown hair.

"Lassiebear! How was work?"

"Hard. As usual."

Shawn frowns at his boyfriend.

"I keep telling you that I can come in for help if you guys need me."

The older man shakes his head.

"I don't want you getting involved because it's a murder case and you might get hurt."

The fake psychic pouts.

"But I'll be able to help! And you don't have to worry about me. I'm a big kid now."

"Henry would argue otherwise," Lassiter breathes in slight exasperation. He swings open the car door.

"So why were you waiting to almost give me a heart attack, Shawn?"

"You should know! It's Wednesday evening, meaning…"

The younger man stares at the head detective, waiting for him to realize what day it is. Unsurprisingly, the older man doesn't catch on.

"Meaning what?" Lassiter massages the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, feeling a headache coming on.

"It's date night, Lassiekins! You've got to keep up on this, it's the second time you forgot."

Shawn shuts up as an icy blue gaze pierces him. He doesn't know whether to keep talking or not, but all he _does _know is that he's in trouble. That's what the death glare _always_ means.

The head detective, on the other hand, knows that his stare means other things. Things along the lines of _Sweet justice, you made my headache vanish. _So when the older man opens his mouth, Shawn flinches, unsurprisingly.

"Sorry," Lassiter mumbles. "Where do you plan on going?"

The fake psychic's face brightens.

"Not a bar, that's for sure! 'Cuz by the way your face looks, that's exactly where you want to go."

The faint, dull rumblings of a headache return once more.

"Spencer, could we just _please_ go to a—"

"Which is why we're just going to order takeout and eat at home!"

Carlton stares at his boyfriend, astonished.

"You sure you want to deal with the part of me that really wants my scotch?"

Shawn laughs.

"I know I won't have to deal with it if we're eating dinner together at home, watching some cop movie and cuddling all at once."

The earthquake that _was_ the ominous headache stops instantly as the older man smiles.

"Let's go, then. I can't wait."


	7. Reason 7

**A/N: Here's Reason 7! This is the last chapter that will be coming fast because I have yet to write out chapter 8. These normally flow pretty smoothly, but chapter 8's a little hard to get through my fingers and onto the paper. Thank you all so much for your support! Please review, even if it is just a comment! I like to see those, it motivates me GREATLY. Be prepared for a sappy ending. You might be able to make syrup with it. (PUN INTENDED.) **

**

* * *

7). Dinner's always for two.**

Carlton Lassiter had been used to a quiet, empty kitchen waiting for him after he got home from work.

It still takes him by surprise that Spencer—_Shawn_, he reminds himself, _Shawn_—can make such a racket in the cooking space. Simply, by either doing nothing at all or doing everything at once. Literally everything.

So Lassiter tries to walk into their house coolly, not reacting to the clang and clatter of pots and pans.

"Shawn, what are you doing?"

"Dinner."

"What happened last time you tried to make food in a real oven?"

There was silence for a moment, followed by light chuckling.

"Lassiekins, I know how to use a real oven now. You can wait."

The head detective laughs himself, sliding into his bedroom to change.

*~*~*~*

Lassiter continues to stare blankly at the television, waiting hungrily for his meal.

"SHAWN! Are you finished _yet_?!" he asks for the millionth time. The head detective, being the pessimist the he is, is expecting a resounding no.

"Yeah, let's eat!"

The older man jumps to his feet and dashes to the table, which is surprisingly set with fancy decorations.

Blue cloth napkins are set neatly on top of fine porcelain dishes Lassiter didn't even know he had. The lights of the candles flicker as Shawn sits waiting.

"I… hope you like it," he mumbles, blushing.

The blue-eyed man walks unusually slowly to over to his boyfriend to place a gentle kiss on the younger man's lips, and then presses their foreheads together.

"I love it, Shawn. It's perfect."

"No, you're perfect."


	8. Reason 8

**A/N: The moment you've all been (hopefully? nahhh) waiting for! An update! Sorry this one took so long, my friend who usually betas this and I were never online at the same time and thus we couldn't go through this together. Hope you all enjoy it, and remember, review! Even if it's just a comment, it is appreciated!**

**

* * *

8). It's never cold in the morning anymore.**

Carlton Lassiter, head detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department, had known loneliness on a very personal basis for a long time. He had almost gotten used to the bitter routine of waking up cold and alone in a double bed, going through the day alone, coming home to a silent kitchen, and going back to a cold bed. But that was until Shawn came into his life.

--

Lassiter opens his eyes, awakened by the infernal beeping known to Shawn as "that devilish morning machine." The head detective whacks the clock a couple times to stop the noise, and then drapes his arm over the fake psychic, who is curled against his chest.

"Mornin'," he says groggily, burying his nose in the mess of brown hair.

"Mm… mmph."

The older man tries to bite back a laugh as he attempts to shake his boyfriend awake. Shawn stirs a little, wrapping his arms around the head detective.

"Come on, today's the only day that I have off and I know that you've wanted to spend time with me for—"

Lassiter is silenced by a pair of clumsy lips over his mouth. He gasps a little as he is rolled onto his back, the fake psychic straddling him.

"Lassie, if you know what's good for you, you'll let me sleep," Shawn growls playfully. The younger man tries to blink sleep out of his eyes.

"But you've been waiting for this day for a while-mmphh."

Shawn silences his boyfriend with his mouth again, lying completely on top of the older man.

"Yeah, Lassie, I _have_ been waiting for this day for a long time. But can we just start it slow? Like… maybe around noon or so. Then we can go out for lunch… 'Cuz I don't want to get out of bed right now. It's really warm and it's nice…"

The head detective watches as his boyfriend drifts off to sleep again on his chest and holds back another laugh. He wraps his arms around the younger man.

"Sure, Shawn, whatever you want."

The fake psychic grins and chuckles.

"Oh Lassie, you are one kinky dude."

Carlton rolls his eyes, and shifts their two bodies so that they are both on the bed.

"Whatever, Shawn."


	9. Reason 9

**A/N: Sorry for such a long wait! Pretty much a month, and this isn't even very good (by my standards). If there's anything in here that you wish for me to change, please feel free to write a review. I can't guarantee that it will be changed but if it _is_ glaring like the thing noticed in chapter 5, it will be changed. Thank you so much for staying with me, and look for the last reason coming soon!**

**

* * *

9). Those movies that they rented? They got watched, but not **_**watched.**_

"Lassie, I'm here!" Shawn announces as he bursts into their apartment. He looks around and finds his boyfriend waiting for him on the couch.

"Hey Shawn."

The fake psychic skips over, giving the head detective a chaste kiss on the cheek before cuddling on the couch next to him.

"What are we watching?"

Carlton yawns and stretches a bit before pulling out a DVD and mumbling something while blushing.

"This movie?" the younger man asks quizzically. "I never took you as a sucker for chick flicks, but… I've never seen this one before, so…"

As the opening credits roll, Shawn moves himself closer against Carlton. Lassiter responds, and wraps his arms around the fake psychic. _His_ fake psychic.

_The Time Traveler's Wife,_ he thinks to himself. _A timeless story of never ending love. How perfect._

As he feels Shawn's spiky brown hair graze across his neck, the older man holds back a throaty laugh. In the mood for slight revenge, he releases his grasp on his boyfriend and starts to tickle him.

"What the—Lassie!"

The fake psychic's pleas for the tickling to stop dissolve into laughter as the two wrestle on the couch. Eventually, Lassiter pins Shawn down and plants a kiss on the younger man's lips.

"I love you, Shawn."

The pseudo psychic laughs and pulls Carlton down for round two.

"I love you too. Now get down here."

The two lay side by side on the couch for a little bit, staring at each other's eyes. Lassiter laughs a bit to himself as he watches Shawn drift off to sleep.

_That movie is due back tomorrow, but I have a feeling that I'm going to have to pay a late fine. _

He tries to shake his boyfriend awake to attempt to watch the movie again, but the fake psychic, as he knows, is dead to the world until noon (or well after). The head detective sighs, puts his hands behind his head, and slowly allows sleep to overtake him.

_It'll be a fine that I won't mind paying._


	10. Reason 10

**A/N: Sorry guys that this took so long. It's finally done! :) Please review~**

**

* * *

10). He, the great Carlton Lassiter, has said it himself. **

Carlton never thought he would ever be in a relationship again after Victoria divorced him. He thought he would be a lonely bachelor for the rest of his life, dying cold and alone.

Carlton never thought he was capable of love again. The gruff head detective never thought that he could utter the l-word with the words "I" and "you" in one sentence. And he, of course, never thought that he would fall head-over-heels in love with Shawn Spencer, resident "psychic" detective—consultant.

Carlton never thought he would ever look forward to waking up to staring at a mess of brown hair, or gazing into groggy green-hazel eyes. He also never thought he would almost constantly crave the taste of pineapples on his lips (both in fruit form, and also from the taste of his boyfriend's mouth). The older man was beginning to see why Shawn loved the spiny fruit.

And, of course, Carlton never thought he would ever say, "I love you" followed by the name "Shawn." (To be quite honest, nobody did. Well… except Buzz. And maybe Juliet, and Gus, the Chief, and… well, Shawn, duh.)

So, once Carlton wakes up from movie night on the couch next to his boyfriend, he runs over the sentiments exchanged and words said.

_I love you, Shawn._

"Wow," he thinks aloud. "I really _did_ say that."

The brown muss of hair, which is now scruffier than normal, moves upwards.

"You said… what?" comes the fake psychic's voice, laced heavily with sleep.

Lassiter chuckles, wraps his arms around his boyfriend and draws him in towards his chest.

"I realized that last night, I told you I loved you."

The older man can feel Shawn blush in his arms.

"And I told you that too, Carlton."

Shawn's stubbly face is prickly to the touch through the head detective's thin t-shirt, and Lassiter holds back a laugh.

"So, now that we've realized that we're like high schoolers in a relationship for the first time, do you wanna finally watch that movie?"

The faux psychic nods his head.

"I wanna be able to make fun of you for watching a chick flick."

Carlton swats at his boyfriend's arm playfully, but reaches for the DVD remote and switches the TV on. He smiles blissfully as he feels Shawn lean back into him. A few minutes in, the younger man looks up at him.

"Can I hear you say it again?"

"What…?"

"You know, the phrase that begins with I and rhymes with 'shmuv foo.'"

"I shmuv foo? That's the best you could come up with?"

The fake psychic giggles a bit before lightly slapping Lassiter's face.

"Say it!"

"I—I love you, Shawn."


End file.
